Bad Day
by Ocianne
Summary: DCMK A morning that began so well, and a heist night that would fray anyone's nerves, Saguru's included. There wasn't even any tea.


For Candyland's prompt at the latest ficswap: "hot air balloons, bread, and bright green undies." Insanity...

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Bad Day

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The day had begun so well.

Kaito had shown up for school, pointedly ignoring Hakuba's penetrating stare — Kaito _was _the Kid, indictable yet or no, and he _would_ find evidence for it soon enough — and gone to tease Aoko. After a short banter of mild insults, Kaito had flipped her skirt, and there had been a glorious moment of horror in his face as he discovered that Aoko's bright green panties were lavishly decorated by fish. Very lifelike fish, going by the unsuccessfully stifled shriek.

Hakuba had watched with vengeful satisfaction as Aoko chased Kaito with the hem of her skirt clenched in one hand and her mop in the other, alternating between threats and swipes at the dark-haired boy's person. Sadly but unsurprisingly, none hit their mark. Hakuba suspected Kaito was being extra smug at him over that. Not in so many words, but just... radiating from his person. Still, the possibility of being confronted with fish again kept Kaito well behaved through the dismissal bell.

Again, the day had _begun_ so well.

Then came the night's heist. It started out bad enough, what with there being a history test the next day, and Hakuba despised facing tests on a handful of hours asleep; curse Kid's timing, he probably knew and planned the date just for spite. Really. He wasn't crazy, or imagining things.

It got worse.

"...Kid, as fascinating as it is to view the city lights from a rope 500 feet in the air, I want _off_ your bloody escape hot air balloon before my foot slips out of the end loop and I lose my grip."

"Maa, Hakuba-kun," came the reply from above, where Kaito was adjusting control bars and who knew what else, "it's not a balloon, it's a blimp. A motorized blimp. The hot air balloon is over there, chasing us on our right. And incidentally, I think that's the Chibi-Holmes on our left with the yellow paraglider."

"What?" Hakuba twisted around on his dangling rope to confirm that yes, there was the boy on a hideously colored contraption to the right, and on the left... He swallowed. Hard. "That's not anything the police have."

"No. It's the source of the bullets which put you in the predicament of hanging off my blimp in the first place."

"Eep." Hakuba hunched up as small as he could around the rope, a difficult feat at the best of times, and not an undertaking best pursued without a safety net. "Tell your motor to whir faster, before they start taking potshots again!"

"It's unlikely they'll target you over me, you know. You simply got in the way earlier, on the building roof. Of course, if I go down I suppose this would too—"

"Not. Helping!"

_Tea and crumpets,_ Hakuba thought desperately. _Don't think about bullets, or the ground; think about how when you get home you're going to have tea and crumpets. Grandmother promised to have them ready, and you promised to be there. That means alive._

"Tea and crumpets, tea and crumpets, tea and—"

"Um, Hakuba-kun? What's a crumpet? Some type of vegetable?"

"Urgh. It's a type of bread. Similar to a flat, spongy cake, if you must know. Are they gaining on us?"

"I think the British are obsessed with cakes. And tea. And no, the crosswind seems to be frustrating their pursuits. You'd think an organization with guns would take the time to check the weather reports and prepare accordingly."

"Wait a minute... You don't even know who the guys trying to shoot you are?"

"In a word? No."

"How about in several words?"

A considering pause. "They have distressing fashion sense and even worse manners. Hold on."

The blimp banked sharply (Hakuba really, really didn't want to know how the Kid could make something so un-aerodynamic _bank_), just as a bullet whizzed uncomfortably close to Hakuba head. His throat involuntarily let out a slightly strangled noise, and most of his higher brain functions happily lay down for a snooze.

When Hakuba returned to his normal level of mental capacity, he found himself standing on the roof of a building close to a mile away from the heist location. All he could recall were vague images and impressions: the rush of wind, adrenaline pumping through his veins, the acute sensation of rope biting into his hands. And a memory of the laughter that forever taunted detectives and snipers alike, mocking yet with countless undercurrents of joy, determination, satisfaction... pain.

With a sigh he pulled out his cell phone. "Nakamori, sir? Kid got away—"

He winced at the explosive roar at the other end. "Yes, sir. Clean, I think. He wasn't bleeding last I saw."

Another wince. "No, I'm not injured either. I don't know who was firing, but it wasn't police."

"Yes, sir, I'm sure. Not us. I'm glad too, even if a bullet wound would make him easier to find."

He sighed again. "Morbid humor, sir, not serious. No, sir, I'll try not to joke as such any longer. Can a car come and pick me up? I promised my grandmother I'd be home at a decent hour."

"Thank you, sir."

_Except 1AM doesn't constitute a decent hour. Damn. Cold tea, soggy crumpets, and a grandmother who's worried sick._

_If only I felt like I had the right to complain. Regularly dodging bullets trumps any list. Damn, again. I hate feeling sorry for a thief._

_And I still haven't figured out **why** he's a thief. _

_Curse it all, Kaito... I don't want to become a thief in order to figure out why **you're**__one. A detective does not burgle his suspects. Shouldn't, anyway._

_I can't believe I'm even **thinking** this._

... The day had begun _so_ well.

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Yes, darkish turn at the end. Dunno why, ask Hakuba. Review?

Ocianne

7/06


End file.
